


Long Division

by not jenny (mazily)



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Defining Moments, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 16:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mazily/pseuds/not%20jenny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The peanut butter sticks to the roof of her mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Division

They sit at the big teacher's desk at the front of the classroom, silently sharing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Mallory swings her legs back and forth, occasionally banging her toe on the drawer. Her glass of milk is frothy and too thick, but she drinks it anyway. Mrs. Willis laughs and tells her she has a mustache.

Mallory decides that she never wants to go home.

*

_"Is he dead?"_

Mallory kicked the body where it lay sprawled next to the sofa, and it snorted.

"No. Let's get a snack from the kitchen."

"But-"

"He's not dead. Okay?"

*

The peanut butter sticks to the roof of her mouth, and she runs her tongue along her teeth. Clucks a bit and picks a piece of crust from the corner of the sandwich. Rolls it between her fingers until it resembles a piece of rice. Flicks it across the desk.

Mrs. Willis asks if anyone was supposed to pick her up today.

Mallory doesn't mention her father and asks for help with long division.

*

_Grabbing the bottle of vodka from the coffee table, Mal tried to avoid Emily's raised eyebrows and questioning looks. Her father started to snore, a harsh rattling noise that reverberated through his entire body, and she blushed. Complete mortification.  
_

*

The bread is chewy and possibly stale.

She repeats her request for math help, shyly pulling her textbook from the backpack at her feet. A test paper with a giant 'A' at the top flutters to the floor, and Mrs. Willis smiles. The book is pushed aside as she unwraps a stack of cookies and passes it across the desk.

"You don't need help with math, Mallory, you know that as well as I. Now, would you like a cookie while we wait for your ride?"

"Yes, please." But I don't want to go home, she doesn't add.

*

_She gathered the bottles scattered throughout the room. Dumped an ashtray full of cigarette butts in the trash. Covered her father with an afghan. Tried to appear busy, too busy to notice the disapproving looks Emily kept sending her way._

Leading the way to the kitchen, she tuned to look over her shoulder. "Oreos okay?"

Emily didn't answer.

*

There's a folded piece of paper sticking out of her math book, and Mallory fingers the edges as Mrs. Willis talks her mother in the doorway. She tries to forget what it says, tries to forget Emily's sprawling handwriting in bright red ink. Tries to forget that her father is a drunk, that her friends are no longer allowed to come over to play. Tries to swallow her disappointment that someone's come to take her home.

Pulling the scrap from its hiding place, she stares at it until the letters bleed together. Her mother grabs her bookbag and turns towards the door. Thanks Mrs. Willis. Mallory shreds the note, separating 'I' from 'can't,' tearing the 'your' from 'friend.' Tosses the confetti in the trash as she follows her mom out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Defining Moments challenge, lo these many years ago.


End file.
